Rain

 

I see a great light today, warming my dampened soul, the bends of my shoulders, silencing the creaks and squeaks of my arching back.

I am a tree, of timber and oak.

A glorious sun awakens me, and my bough grows, stretches longer, like Adam’s reach towards God. My bark firms, hardening manyfold, sucking in the soul of life from my roots like a rush of blood, a gushing life force.

I sparkle with leaves, resonating and waltzing to the cadence of the wind, Nature’s orchestra – I take the first seat and I am the last, I am the instrument and the instrumentalist. As green as the Earth deems me to be, as vibrant as the world asks me to be. I unfold with a crescendo, the high notes, the climax, and hush… I am the silent applause.

The tips of my bough, a lonely flower blooms, a flower called life.

I am a wolf, of cold and winter.

My limbs ache, tiny crystal flakes nestled in my grey fur like winter’s hatchlings. They begin to melt, and I feel the warmth careening along my body.

I lick my talons clean, forgotten taste of an unfortunate prey? Or perhaps my own. I remember my struggle, the hunt, the chase, the collapse, the fading shadow of my sustenance and the piercing sound of its gloating bleat. I remember how woefully it matched the amplitude of my hunger.

I lick my talons clean, forgotten taste of defeat.

I am a wolf, defeated yet not crestfallen. The moon shines upon me, igniting my fur with a silvery conflagration. I become one with the wind, soaring through the icy forest like a wildfire, pranced atop a hill, I become the winter’s howl. The alphas shudder, their packs scatter, their whelps whimper.

I am the lone wolf, estranged yet feared. The moon shines in my eyes tonight, a shine called life.

I am a mountain. Tall and stalwart, standing against time brazenly. I fear nothing, I feel nothing.

My nonchalance covers decades, my indifference spans eons, my heartlessness is beyond conscious and conscience. I have become God, as I am awake, and everyone still sleeps – a self-anointed crown of thorns.

A heavenly rain bellows and sweeps me to the earth below, I fall asunder like a boor, taste of mud splattered across my lips. I fall from the great heights of delusions into the pits of truth. Vapid atmosphere of vainglory no longer befool me. I drink the ambrosial stream of rainwater, that I once discarded.

I feel the gallop of the gazelles, tickling my senses. I feel the rain covering me like a lover’s embrace. And I, like a child, break down into tears – endless rivers of tears.

I am a mountain, overgrown yet not overpowerful. A figure of love and not of hubris. I catch a lightning at my peak, a thunder echoes, a thunder called life.

I am a man, of flesh and bones. Murky visions of the future, clouded eyes, as pale as snow. Hands, gritty and chafed, like a wood worker. I see no light, nor does the light see me. I am a forgotten lore, a misbegotten progeny.

Confused by the weight of the world, disoriented by the onus of expectations, demented by my acceptance of slavery. I am far from what I was, far from what I can be. I am slipping off the tangent against my circle of life, a cataclysmic fall that may never arrive, a slow ride to infinity in comfort of many parallels such as me. The grim geometry of life.

But today I halt, I bury my feet against the tangent to decelerate. I grind, I crawl, against the gravity, up the tangent, up towards my distant circle of life. I see clearly today, my vision restored, my limbs vitalized.

I scurry up, pacing like a wolf – defeated yet not crestfallen. I grow, like a tree – old yet blooming. I rise, like a mountain – confident yet grounded.

I am home, my circle of life – a familiar face greets me, “Welcome home, I am so proud of you”.

She wipes me clean, my tainted unstructured form is invisible to her. She sees beyond such things. Her unearthly figure seems almost levitating and I am lifted with her.

I am man, uncouth yet not unloved. Bent but not broken.

In presence of her – my sun, my moon, my rain.